Michael Leong sent me this: "I was re-visiting Rachel Blau Duplessis' drafts and "stumbled" upon the lines (from Drafts 68: Threshold):
Listen. You have stumbled across terrain and
Still could not escape this twisted langdscape."
For more on lang/scape, see this essay ...
I'm more and more interested in poetry that exists outside of the page, wherever it needs to happen.
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